Why Racing Is Silly
When something yummy is trying to find you
I heard that one time a potato decided to have a race … with himself! Potatoes aren’t that smart (unless they’re chili cheese fries, but that’s another story.) Anyway, because this potato was homesick for Peru, he decided that, as the GoFundMe just never took off, he’d have a race with himself, you know, and eventually get back home.
High in the Andes, the most romantic Purple Potato did call to him in his dreams every night. “Come home to me, you silly Russet! I’m waiting.”
Well, who could resist that?
The problem was, it’s just goddamned hard to race your own self! He never got past Des Moines.
That magical Purple Potato eventually gave up and ran off with an Amazonian Ayahuasca Dude (but that, too, is another story.)
What’s the lesson, guys? Well, just forget about the racing. If you’re in the soft moist Earth, full of delicious smells … and other silly potatoes, too! … then you’re already burrowing towards home.
Except for that Ayahuasca fellow, I guess. When that staining juicy fragrant (and quite funny) Purple Potato showed him what he was missing, he just told all those idiotic shamans bye bye. The two of them moved to Rio and got a place at the beach.
And I hear they go swimming each day.
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© “John” Lesly Levin 2021
